Tag Archives: prose

Beautiful endings

Enjoy things while they last, because everything ends. Death and the nature of humans promise just that, endings. My grandfather lost my grandmother at old age, he had three wives, but he wept for losing one.

Still, that was a beautiful ending. I love beautiful endings. Pray for a beautiful ending, not eternity, because that doesn’t exist.

What changed?

Somedays, you wake up with bile in your mouth. You feel your tongue doesn’t fit within the confines of your teeth. Or it’s rough. You smell your breath, and it’s nasty AF. Then you remember the old you, that little kid who believed in so much. Yeah, the boy is now a man.

What changed?

Dreams Mock Me

Dreams Mock Me

As a child I had dreams bigger than my sleep. My abilities had no stains of doubt and my hopes breathed from lungs of possibilities. Today my nightmares are bigger than my house and procrastination evicted my best friend ‘NOW” and my walls are painted with the blood of my slain dreams.

Hearts Ripped In Throes of Passion

Charlie listened to her plans and knew he was in trouble. The pursuit had ended sooner than he expected. His was a cautious heart, still harboring bandages and stitches from a relationship he knew was destined to earthly heavens. It was now that he realized that he didn’t need a woman and all the pursuit he had waged was just under the illusion that she needed a nurse to dress the wounds that were causing him sleepless nights, but wounds of the heart need no dressing. They are to be left to heal on their own for even the hands of angels aren’t soft enough not to leave a bruise on delicate wounds. He was learning that if there was a concoction for healing a wounded heart then a woman wasn’t a part of it. The concoction would be made of three recipes; time, time and time.

“Babe, are you even listening?” Annett prodded.

“Yeah, we’ll have children, we’ll wed and we’ll travel the world on love’s back. What more have you talked about?”

“Babe, don’t be cynical about love, why did you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like this”, she twitched her lips. She was pissed off.

Here she was, trying to please a man who was too mean to pay her the least attention she needed. Why does it always have to be like this? Finally Charlie was proving to be worse in conversation than Kev she was ditching, but he had it all; all he sought in a man. He was well endowed, got looks to die for and was stable financially. Even if he was incompetent in other aspects, he would be worth the risk.

To Charlie, love was a grand illusion. It was a huge chess board, every player reading the opponent’s mind and hiding their next moves under their sleeves and aha! Their true intentions surface, too late for any defense. Good intentions floored as illicit passions take toll. And then ravens would perch on nearby trees, waiting for the opportune time to come down and feed on the vestiges of hearts spread on rugged earth, hearts ripped in throes of passion.


If loving you was a career

I would specialize in it

I would learn to be the best in the profession

I would know its thrills and perils

All the highs and lows

If loving you was a career

Then you would be the college

Your backbone would be the curriculum

Tread carefully or fall head first into oblivion

If loving you was a career

Your lips would be the white board

And my tongue the marker pen

I would write for eternity,



Inscribing my love deeper than tattoo

Thousand students would want to write on them,

Some would, but their pens won’t write deep

They’d be erased.

When exams come,

My answers would remain

Deeply inscribed in your lips

And I would pass: the only one good enough for you

Tribalism is a malignancy

I am getting ready for a war to win the freedom to my thoughts back, I am getting ready to validate my own judgement. I want to judge you based on the content of your character and not on the lies I was told while growing up.

In fact give me my earbuds I want to cock out all the dirt they’ve spat in my ears all these years, my ears are aching of the rot within, can’t you get the smell: that Njuguna,Kamau and Mwangi are a band of thieves, that otieno, Adhis, Okoth, Achieng are walking billboards of braggadocio, That Wanjiku, Njeri, Shiro are all gold diggers, that mwikali, Kambua, kanini, Mwende are only good with their backs on bed sheets shifting positions and muffling groans but their hands are too feeble to hold the threads of marriage with due tenacity.

Na kama ni ukweli kila kabila ina maradhi

(if its true every tribe has an ailment)

Basi ni tiba tunahitaji

(Then its the cure we need)

We need a cure for tribal maladies

As tribalism is the worst form of malignancy

It creeps slowly into your heart and swells and bursts into lethal toxins that lames your sight in such a way that humans are seen as animals. you look at me, at streaks of blue in my eyes, at my kinky hair and light skin and all you see is a snake, kill or escape.

In reality all you should see in me is you in a different body, you with a different purpose and school of thought for we’re all one. Kikuyu, Luo, white, black, kamba, muslim, hindu, atheist, Christian et cetera we have a common ancestry. from Adam we all descend.

Its time we unloaded tribal stereotype baggages from our backs, dump them in rivers and watch them drown. I need a rest. we all need a rest. we might be different as east is from west but these differences make us complement. Somedays I find my bones too heavy, I tried to walk on but the earth surface threatened to break at their weight, I cocked them out and curved my coffin out of them, I dug my own grave and with all the strength I had left, dragged myself into my coffin, but still I needed six of you to carry the coffin into my grave.

‘I didn’t know we were strangers’!

‘Pull it out,’ she said, grabbing my fly

Her breasts half exposed, she’s already ripe

Her lips nipping my neck

Her breasts prickling my chest

Taking my hand, she thrust it deep in her pants

The warmth, the moisture, the sensation raised my shaft

Breathing heavily, her heartbeat racing faster, can you hear it?

Her lips pressed on mine, she is a pro at this, she thrust her tongue deep in my mouth

Moving it in and out I guess faking what she wanted to feel deep between her thighs


Seizing her breast in my hands, she groaned and moved even closer

She is ready for a shot

Should I have this?

No, tis too early, before the ‘No” could escape ma lips

She had managed to pull it out…No time to toy

After 2hrs… ‘Remind me of your name’?

‘I didn’t know we were strangers’!